I was free

I thought he was kind
I thought he was wise
I thought he was funny
I thought he was free

But there she was
Her blonde hair
Her sparkling blue eyes
There to take him away

I wasn’t smart enough
I wasn’t pretty enough
I wasn’t funny enough
But I was free

And know I’m free of life
Free of obligation
Free of emotion
Especially love

This is suffocatingly OTT (Over The Top).

"Free," "sparkling," "smart," "pretty," "funny."

A five-year old could have come up with those words. Poetry comes from the investigation of the Self -- this investigation did not occur here. And the repetition was dull, boring, soporific at best.

Trash this sucker, pull out a notebook, and lisp your navel-gazing verse away.